


Connect/Disconnect

by KoroMarimo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, He's seventeen talking bout he gonna knock up his girl, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo lemme smash, One-Sided Attraction, Pregnancy, Teen Angst, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Teenage Rebellion, Teenage Shenanigans, Them Nasties, Where is Jaina Solo 2018, Young Ben Solo, he needs a hug, help him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-24 16:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoroMarimo/pseuds/KoroMarimo
Summary: Ben Solo had dreams. He'd promised he would make a life for the four of you. Four became three. You wanted them far away from the thing he'd become.





	1. Rebellion

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I'm very depressed, and the only thing getting me through 2018 is Star Wars and Adam Driver's dreamy lips. I reconnected to my childhood love of Star Wars and the evenings of Super Bowl playing with my cousin’s lightsabers and making OCs.
> 
> Let’s raise a glass this New Year’s Eve: To memories, and the Solo twins.
> 
> Also come on people #whereisjainasolo2018

You were students. It was wrong. He was seventeen, a year your senior. You came from nothing. There were rules for a reason. He had the unmitigated temerity to break them. You had a tendency to look the other way. Both of you were throwing away the code and risking punishment, a stupid decision considering the way of the Jedi was what the both of you had wanted in the first place.

“First, we will have a girl.” you decided finally.

Ben Solo smiles and his large, skinny hands rubbed the area just below your stomach. It’s a different place and time. He took risks then, albeit poorly calculated ones. It was the middle of the night. The other padawans and Master Luke were all asleep soundly in their huts, Ben having snuck from his abode to yours because this way you both were so far from the others. No one could hear Ben’s whimpers or your grunts of ecstasy as you two touched through the barriers of your clothes, you sitting in his lap clothed from the waist up in your tunic, legs covered in bandages from fresh lightsaber wounds while Ben’s busy hands avoided the tape and touched you intimately on the stomach like a gentleman. In the dark you both become different people. No longer students of the Jedi way, but instead two very desperate lovers who ache and feel in sync with each other. When the two of you unite, the Force within you both seems to knit together an impenetrable wall that hides well your illicit affairs. His calloused fingertips would always catch on the rough fabric of your tunic, but he didn’t mind. Not when he held in his hands a realm of possibilities. A finite bubble that with proper nurturing and care would contain a multitude of potential. If he listened closely, he could hear them calling softly in his ears. Drowning out the seed of doubt in his mind and filling him to the brim until there was no Jedi temple, there was no Ben Solo and his forbidden lover. There was only the two of you. His warm hands over your womb.

This was stupid... This was too sudden.

“I want a boy.” He murmured into your hair after deep consideration, and you relished the whoosh of air in your ear as he breathed in the smell of your locks. Pouting lips captured the shell of your ear with a chaste kiss, while your hands lay on his and busied themselves stroking the soft skin.

“But first a girl Ben.” you insisted, laughing softly when his tongue penetrated your ear canal in play. “I want our son to have a sister who will take care of him, show him how to be gentle. I’ve always wanted a beautiful little girl with your raven hair.”

“And your bright eyes.” he sighed.

“Yes. I will allow that.” you chuckled. “But I hope both grow to look like you.”

Ben held you possessively, and you loved every minute of it. Loved the way his hands cradled your lower abdomen as though it was already swollen with child. There was something about it that filled a void in both of your hearts. It fulfilled some missing element in the relationship even though you had each other. Like ravenous young lovers, you allowed the young padawan’s essence to permeate every pore of your being when he reached out to you, his head resting against yours. You explored each other’s feelings and minds, the Force acting as curious fingers which probed and prodded the very cores of your being more intimately than anything you could have ever known. He knew every secret carried in your heart, every fault and flaw, and at the time you knew his. Once, unpleasantly, you had caught a taste of the doubt and of the dark, only to chase it away with your own strong light. Unfortunately, your own worries penetrated his mind strongly.

“You needn’t be scared of carrying two children.” Ben whispered, sensing your fears at the thought of even carrying one baby. “I’ll be there to look after you and tend you.”

“Mostly I fear the pain.” You replied honestly. “More-so than the punishment of getting caught, and having to take the brunt of the absolute mayhem of not only Leia Organa, but of Master Luke as well.”

“We can handle that.” Ben insisted. “We’ll run away. Maybe if I tell my father, he’ll be able to come back and help. I think he would understand how I feel about you. If there's anyone that would be willing to take the risks we want it's him.”

“I know.” your fingers laced with his as he continued to rest his hands against your stomach. “But that does not solve the issue of the birth pain I’ll have to endure... Women have died because of it you know.”

“I’ll be there for you.” he reassures you with gentle nosing as you shiver. His hands begin to rub your abdomen. Beginning at the bottom where he cradled your womb and ending just below your breast, until the entire process is reversed and repeated.

“I’ll be right there when the time comes.” Ben assured. His voice is so soft and soothing, you could stay like this forever.

“Maybe... Maybe something can be done for the pain. There certainly must be a way that I can take some of it away if we make a connection. I would bear every burden for you if it meant sparing you the agony of bringing our children into the world.”

“You take such good care of me Ben Solo.” you whisper.

In his own way, he begs for his lips to be paid attention to. You give him offerings of your own, your lips chapped and rough from the intense physical effort of neglecting beauty in favor of training to catch up with the others. Ben frowns, his tongue darting from his parted lips to lap at your own, coating them in his saliva and softening the dead skin. You sigh contentedly, pulling yourself up onto his lap where you writhe against him skillfully. He’s wary of your new wounds, avoiding a grip on your hips and instead keeping his hands on your stomach as you grind against his parts. He doesn’t like how Master Luke treats you and the three other girls, even if the Knight is his blood relation. The sexist notion that female jedi must undergo far tougher physical conditioning to catch up to the level of the boys sickens him. There’s one in his year, Pavel, that could barely handle the lightsaber properly. You and another young lady called Heela always lead lightsaber practices under Luke’s eagle eye. But often times it’s just Heela, because your recklessness with a lightsaber often causes more burns than Ben Solo would like to admit. But it’s not that you’re clumsy. Far from it in fact, Ben feels as though you and the blade become lost in one another so thoroughly, you often forget it is a separate entity. Your skills are fairly good, the green blade slices to ribbons anything that Master Luke sets before you and only falls when Ben Solo focuses everything he has into your defeat during training. It becomes an extension of your arm, so natural and fluid with a particular grace that Ben can not get enough of when he watches you. He supposed that’s why you would try and sheathe it while still activated. Tomorrow, Master Luke promised, he would find a solution for your habits. 

Yet it might not even be possible for you to get up and walk to the temple tomorrow. The way Ben holds you, whispering in your ear his plans for the children and the home life the four of you will make together on some undisclosed planet made you uncertain. Often times in meditation you would catch these negative thoughts. Instead of connecting with all life in the universe, you found yourself deep in thought regarding if this training was really for you. You wanted to be strong and protect the ones you loved from the darkness, and Ben had expectations riding on his success as a new Jedi Knight. Then there was the life you planned to live together, for life was not worth living if one could not have the other. There were so many things twisting you both apart. He felt the seed of your doubt in his own heart, and reached out with a silent insistence that everything will be fine.

"It won't be easy..." you said.

“They’ll be very angry at first,” he said logically, “In time, they’ll understand how we feel. It will take a great deal of reasoning with them if they find us. For now, we simply have to keep up this facade until I can get hold of my father to smuggle us away.”

“So we can’t be together in the interim?” you ask, voice too soft for him to notice the break in it. But inside his mind he feels your hurt pierce him like a dagger.

“Oh my sun, my moon, my stars.” he gushes your praises like an old poet with each pet name punctuated with a feverish kiss, far too much of an old romantic not to make you laugh. “Of course we can be together. I would never leave your side.”

“Never?”

“Never...”

Your thoughts return to your own mind. Ben jumps a bit from the sudden disconnection, and even though you’re near to each other the separation in consciousness makes him stir crazy. An anxiety takes over his mind whenever he is not completely melded with you, as though he is missing some crucial part of himself. He feels vulnerable, afraid that if you close off from him too long, some unseen force, his own doubts and darkness, might take root in the place you’ve left behind. 

“Jaina.”

It sounded like a belch at first. A hitch in your breath. He wondered what you were talking about, until you entwined your fingers with his and returned them to your stomach from Ben’s resting place on your lap.

“Her name will be Jaina Solo, and she will be the spitting image of her father.” you smile.

Ben Solo understood then.

“And he will be Jacen Solo, and he will be every bit as charming and sensitive as his mother.” he agreed. Instantaneously your Force connection was restored, driving away the seeds of doubt and keeping them at bay for a little while at least.

“I think we should try soon.” he whispered into your ear. A warm, jolting shiver descended down your spine as Ben became brave. He told you how and when you both will try, because he’s been waiting for this moment since the two of you became infatuated with school time crushes. He whispers sultry things in his deep voice, having dropped a few octaves since you’ve known him in the earliest days of training. Very much so you still were in the honeymoon stage of the relationship. Yet because Ben was such a smooth, even talker, and because his hands and body were so deliciously lanky and so completely yours, you felt the honeymoon would never end.


	2. Pull

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 2018 and Adam Driver/Kylo Ren has become my psychological crutch in this trying time. This fic will experiment with jumping between past and present, and I'll be trying many new things with it.
> 
> Nasties will probably happen a bit later on. There will be a warning posted before it happens.
> 
> If you want to see the super sexy GIF I have for this story, check it out on my Tumblr: https://londonfog-chan.tumblr.com/post/169152919624/kylo-ren-x-reader-connectdisconnect-an-this-is

You’re far too old to rise early anymore, but since the early days of your Jedi training the dawn has been far too important to be ignored. At dawn, no matter the time zone, there is always some magnetic pull that tries to grip your subconscious mind. It is the wee hours of the morning, darkness has not yet yielded to the tip of the morning star’s magnificent halo. A particularly fulfilling dream is lost when the cold of the early morning slaps your bare arms and legs. Pins and needles make a static annoyance beginning from the soles of your calloused feet and creep up to just under your knees. It’s going to be another day spent in a fog. The dawn is your friend, but sleep is still the enemy. You shiver and groan quietly in annoyance. The culprit is Jaina this time. Fourteen years old and you still cannot afford a separate room for her, or her brother.

Such is the fate of a single parent trying to care for two fatherless children. Though the room is dark despite the miniscule circular window, your fingers ghost over the rough material of the stuffed straw sleeping mat until your fingertips touch a suspiciously warm nest of blankets. A rough yank frees a good portion away from her, and in her sleep Jaina protests. Sticky fingers try to win back her spoils of war, but you will not relinquish the sheets to her like a doting mother would. She has one choice: share, or sleep in the cold. A soft coo indicates that she concedes defeat. It’s too frigid to be selfish this time of the season. Jaina presses her back to yours, and you relinquish blankets for her as she quiets herself down. You’re grateful there is no fight this morning. The pull beckons to you, calling for sleep or to wake, you’re not sure. The pins and needles you feel are far too insistent. Luckily they give the advantage to sleep, and your eyes begin to droop as the lull of your daughter’s breathing soothes the ever constant ache in your mind. In good humor, you nestle closer to Jaina and reach out a hand to run your fingers through your son’s thick, raven curls.

A cold feeling of dread snaps your eyes open and chases away the nagging pull when you realize Jacen is not there.

Quietly, and without alerting Jaina to his absence, you slip out of the warmth of blankets, navigating the self-contained space of the dark room. Your fingers fumble against the walls for the handle of the sliding door leading to the outside world. When at last you find it, you part it just enough to squeeze through the miniscule opening before shutting out the cold of the early morning. Jaina would be alone when the dawn’s chorus of fauna woke her, but you needed to be sure your son was safe. Moving was the hardest on him. He wasn’t capable of sticking out the sudden changes or of meeting new acquaintances.

Whenever it was time to move the family to a new place in the galaxy, Jacen would shut his mouth tight and cry his silent tears, fists pounding on his head until he gave himself a headache. When he was called upon to do any talking he refused, or spoke with an unruly tongue because his hearing caused him to speak with a rough accent. He wasn’t much of a talker, hardly had friends growing up, and he wasn’t capable of defending himself when anyone showed the least bit of aggression. Younglings were absolute hell to anyone who was the least bit different, and on the last planet you’d been on Jaina had developed calloused knuckles due to the steady stream of fistfights she had trying to defend her poor quivering brother. You didn’t worry about her as much, Jaina could express her feelings albeit in a barbaric manner, yet Jacen only retreated further into his shell.

Outside of your pauper’s home, the night is still waiting to be chased away by the light of the sun. Glowing creatures with vivid bioluminescent patterned bodies imitated the night sky in their quest to mate. You stepped gingerly on the rough gravel around your hut, careful not to disturb Jaina’s rest. Softly, hardly above a whisper, you called to your second born.

“Jacen.” you breathed, although you did not expect an answer. “Jacen, darling, where are you?”

He was crouched down so low in the rocks you didn’t notice him until you nearly tumbled over him, his sniffling alerting you to his pain. A glowing moth passed over his rounded back, and for the faintest illuminated moment you could see his head buried in his hands as he struggled to breathe. Immediately you went to him, lifting him up to inspect the damage.

“What has happened?!” you whisper desperately. “What is wrong?”

“Hit my head on table. Got dizzy, threw up there.”

Jacen’s hands are coated in blood as he uses jerky hand gestures to speak to you and to point to a puddle of sick on the gravel where creatures pick at it halfheartedly. Another nose bleed, evident from the browning crust from his nostril down to his mouth, and the scarlet spot on the front of his tan tunic. He shrinks away from your touch when you cup his face, lips contorting as he winces.

“Sweet one, stay still. Was it another nightmare?” you try to console him as best you can, and he manages a weak nod.

“You cannot run like that anymore.” you scold. “This is a new home, far different from the last planet with Grandmother and Grandfather.”

“I know.” Jacen responds, lips contorting from pain to his faint annoyance.

“You have to wake me if you’re afraid.”

“ _I know._ ”

“If your sister hadn’t woken me up you would have frozen.”

There’s no regard for the only pair of clothes you have as you untie the sleeves of the tunic tied at your waist to mop Jacen’s bleeding nose. With a bit of gentle coaxing, you manage to get him up and moving back towards your home. The entire way there, he does not utter a sound nor does he look you in the eyes.

“Your sister will be up and ranting about her breakfast in an hour,” you tell him quietly as the both of you slip into the dark house, “And in the meantime I’ll put you to bed and make you some of that herbal tea I found yesterday at market. It smells worse than a garbage compactor, but I’m told it’s the best at putting you to sleep if you’re restless. Would you like a bit?”

“Nothing. No breakfast. No tea. Give it to Jaina.” he replies, hands still shaking from the cold. He makes a few mistakes but doesn’t have the heart to correct himself.

This phase of his will last until a few months when he is settled down, and you sigh in defeat. At the very least he is communicating with you in some way. The one friend he did manage to make on a lush agricultural planet had taught him to speak this way with his hands, and he picked up the very basics fairly quickly. It excited everyone in the family, especially Jaina, who often pretended to speak to her brother in codes. You picked up enough to understand, but with your energy focused on getting through yet another day you made frequent mistakes much to the chagrin of your children.

Jaina doesn’t stir when you lay her brother next to her on the mat. His shirt will need to be cleaned thoroughly, and you hope that you’ll have enough water to do the washing and cooking once it’s clean. Hauling water is a chore in of itself, and you are in no condition today to do it. Ignoring the pull you feel as you go about boiling water and getting breakfast, you listen to Jacen’s soft breathing in sync with Jaina’s snoring. From out of the window, the sky turns from an ombre of indigo and black to a dark mauve. You see your son prop himself up from the mat, watching as you painstakingly clean both of your clothes in the dim light.

“No… sleep?” you ask him quietly with your hands.

“Can’t sleep.” Jacen corrects. “No mother. Cannot sleep, my head is still spinning.”

“Have many nightmare since…” you’re not sure of the words, so you painstakingly spell each one out slowly and hesitantly.

“Y-O-U-R D-R-E-A-M-S H-A-V-E B-E-E-N L-I-K-E T-H-I-S S-I-N-C-E C-H-R-O-N-A. W-H-A-T I-S I-T T-H-A-T I-S K-E-E-P-I-N-G M-Y S-O-N A-W-A-K-E N-I-G-H-T-S? H-O-W C-A-N I H-E-L-P?”

Jacen is squinting the whole time you spell out your obnoxious sentence. On the nanowave stove the water comes to a violent frothing that you just manage to remove from the heat before it wakes Jaina. You use a little water to soak away the blood from both tunics, looking up every so often at your son and waiting patiently for his response. One doesn’t come. Instead he throws up his hands in a simple expression: “I can’t understand you”. Both tunics are washed clean of blood and your son has his back to you by the time you have begun the cooking. A bit of it burns, not enough water to spare after the wash, but there’s also not enough spare ingredients to throw this morning meal away and begin again. An argument from your daughter is inevitable, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes you try your hardest to concentrate on the ever constant throbbing in the temples, avoiding the pull as usual while you steel yourself against the famous onslaught of Jaina Solo.

 _Just leave me be._ Is your mantra to the pull, _Leave me be. Leave them be. Oh please just let me make a decent meal. She’ll be hell to deal with if I can’t feed her something decent this week._

Another painful day begins as your daughter’s sleepy breaths turn to animalistic sniffing.

“Oh stars mother!” complains Jaina loudly, startling her brother awake as you murmur quietly to yourself. “Have you burned it again?!”


	3. Watching/Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all us thirsty bitches who need more Ben Solo as a young padawan in our lives. Long live angsty teenage romance!

Do you want to know something about yourself?

Every year since you became a Padawan, there were eyes watching you.

Whenever you made a move, they were trained on you. Focused. Trying to understand- _comprehend_ \- why you never disengaged your lightsaber when you put it away. Wanting to be the source of the smile you wore as something pleasing happened. Jealous eyes, willing away Heela, Ere, and Peorth whenever they got too close. Pleased eyes whenever your kind gaze rested upon him. Lustful, desperate eyes that made his heart ache whenever you slept soundly in your hut, trained on the rise and fall of your chest as you slept. Sometimes you would coo in sleep, soft as a dove, and the eyes would glaze over with the light of a million stars. Wondering, always wondering, if perhaps the coo was meant for him.

It’s something you’d always known, but perhaps you’d blocked it out these past fourteen years.

If I were to ask you about it, you’d probably deny it ever happening, but perhaps you’d feel an uncomfortable nagging in the back of your mind that insists I’m right. Maybe if I were to come into your home now, and disturb the tranquility and kindness of your hospitality with this talk, you would at first be confused. Realization might wash over you however, if I tell you who the eyes belonged to. Perhaps your voice would catch, voice trying to accept the truth with a “yeah” that turns abruptly into “no”. Maybe your voice would raise a few octaves as you tried to deny it to my face, feeling a sense of dread as the pins and needles become more urgent when not one, but _two_ pairs of those same eyes bore holes into you as you remain in a world of denial.

And perhaps, unbeknownst to the both of us as we sit in your humble home and drink tea while talking of eyes, there would be that same pair of eyes trying to peer through the darkness and the stars of the galaxy. Searching, always rolling in the sockets back and forth looking for the source of happiness he’d known as a child, and silently begging for the return of what was once lost.

He’d thought he’d found an angel when he first laid eyes on you. There were four young girls among a dozen young Padawans and the boys were in an uproar. Separate transports were used as Luke Skywalker’s Jedi training was strictly voluntary, some parents brought in their younglings later than others as they realized that perhaps there was merit in rebuilding the Jedi Temples of yore. It had been your parents that had asked Master Luke if he would admit young women into the training temple. They had been surprised to find that he was more than willing to take the four of you on. News had spread among the boys, and like a collective hive mind they swarmed your parent’s transport ship to see the newcomers. Ben was embarrassed, to think the son of a princess would act as if he’d never seen a girl before. Yet he had to admit it would be nice to see fresh new faces instead of the same ones taunting him day after day.

First to greet Master Luke upon arrival was a shy timid thing that was Ere, her voice hardly above a whisper as she shook the hand of the Jedi Knight. The second was more confident, giving a low bow instead of a more informal handshake and introducing herself as Peorth. All around Ben the boys whispered and laughed at her attire. Admittedly it wasn’t something that so young a girl should wear, and there was a mean spirited murmur of laughter that sounded when Master Luke told her she would have to adhere to the traditional dress of Padawans.

“Slut.” one of the boys hissed, indicating to Peorth.

“Clueless virgin.” another said of Ere.

Ben couldn’t even listen to what they said of the third, Heela, as she strongly took Master Luke by the hand and gazed upon the boys gathered with contempt. Her face spoke volumes, though she didn’t say a word to anyone. No one knew if she even spoke in Basic. Yet every glance, at key faces especially, showed that she had heard every word her brothers in arms spoke. A bit of sparkle in her eyes spoke her message loud and clear: _Choose your next words wisely, and you might be able to exist on the same planet as I._

“I have to admit I’m in awe of you Master Skywalker. My hands have become clammy…”

It was the beginning of the end when he heard your voice. The way you spoke was casual, yet elegant, and he was not disappointed to find that the way you looked and moved was similar. He figured you must have exited when Heela caught his eye, her glare sending him further into his shell. You stood before the Jedi Knight with a hand behind your head, laughing as he shook your hand gratefully and teased you for being such a tittering fan. Your clothes were plain yet clean, and your hair was well kept. There was an air about you that made you out to be something more than the others.

“And where are your shoes?” Luke had asked, laughing and pointing to your bare feet. “Am I to assume that in your excitement to meet me you simply left them on the ship?”

“Such arrogance.” you had laughed, a slight dusting of pink coloring your cheeks left Ben’s mouth dry. “I never wear shoes Master Skywalker. I find them far too prohibitive for any sort of tasks I may need to perform.”

“I’ll remember that when I find some proper training clothes for the four of you. In the meantime, we all extend our warmest welcomes to you, and your friends.” he replied.

Ben had never seen such a smile on his uncle’s face before, and the gathered Padawans did not seem to know what their collective opinion of you would be. A boiling, writhing feeling of jealousy sloshed inside the pits of his stomach when in a spur of good humor, Master Luke gave you a light squeeze before ushering the four of you into the temple. As if you’d sensed it, your gaze turned to his and his heart nearly stopped when you gave a carefree toothy grin, waving slightly and scratching your head as you passed by with Luke Skywalker. Something burned in him then. He felt as though he would crawl over hot coals while being pursued by a rancor, if that was what it took just to have another smile from you directed his way.

Those eyes of his would follow you everywhere. From your happiness with Heela and the others as you bonded, from the intensity of your movements whenever you were partnered with him for training, he committed every part of your being to memory. When the other boys focused their attentions from tormenting him onto you and your friends, Ben used his time to watch you from any place he could. Often he protected you from the more cruel pranks of the others, using the force to trip them up or help you floor them during training. You had no idea, and it hurt him to simply sit and watch from the sidelines. At night in his bed, he imagined what he would say to you. _You are the love of my life and I wish to be near you always_ , he might say… No, far too forward. _Your eyes, I could be lost in them for the rest of my life_.

Ever since your arrival, he noticed you had not smiled since your training began. After trying to make friends with the others and being subjected to the worst abuse imaginable, Ben saw you less and less outside of training. During mealtimes you and your three cronies always hid away from the rest of the Padawans, it must have made it easier to get through another training session with Master Luke when you could eat in peace away from what felt like hundreds of prying eyes. Only one pair ever held any regard for the group, but Ben hardly ever spoke to anyone... How could he be the mighty knight that put a stop to the abuse? Curiosity propelled his feet around the grounds in a constant search for you during free time. By some strange miracle, or by the will of the Force, he finally found your hiding places when he began to take notice of the other girls. They were good for leading him to you at least, no matter where any of them went you always followed.

“We’re meant to be here.”

“They do not want us here.”

“We are stuck here.”

“Eat your lunch.”

The forest clearing was enclosed in a fog. Ben shivered in the shrubbery, his clothes succumbing to the damp. Three pairs of eyes turn to the hunched form of Heela who dug into her portion with reckless abandon. From your left, Peorth snorted like a Gamorrean, while Ere watched Heela in revolted fascination. After following the four of you and scaling the walls of the Jedi temple to reach the court of trees that marked the boundary of the temple and training grounds, Ben noticed with a pain in his heart that most of your portions had been lost to the floor. All of you had begged for morsels from one another, but Heela had guarded hers closely and refused to share.

“As I said,” you had broken the silence, “We are stuck here. Master Luke had all of us swear an oath to remain until our training is complete, and our parents would never consent to picking us up like a bunch of frightened younglings.

“Quite right.” agreed Heela. “There is no option but to remain in our present torture.”

“May I have some of your portion?” Ere asked hopefully. Heela only ignored her, turning the plate away from the young Padawan.

“The one thing we can do is sit it out, and exact our revenge come time for practice.” you sighed, licking the tip of your finger to obtain the crumbs on your plate. Ben could have watched you do that for hours, something deep inside himself begging for that tongue.

“If Master Luke were to hear you say that, he’d be convinced you were feeling a pull to the dark side.” Ere sighed in her mournful voice.

“I do not see a similar conviction of darkness towards those tormentors when they’re the ones driving me to it.” you said. “The least he could do is punish them… To be honest I’m a bit disenchanted with my hero.”

“He will not.” Heela replied, her mouth full of food and spilling out whenever she spoke. “He does not want any of them jeopardized. Snoke’s influence is a powerful tool, and the seed of darkness could be fostered in any soul who is wronged by our Master.”

“I know my friend here values the opinion of one more than anything else that Master Luke has to offer. It wouldn’t be easy to turn you now would it?” Peorth chuckled, nudging your shoulder.

You shoved Peorth back, laughing while your cheeks flushed. Ben could feel his heart tingling, that same bit of jealousy on the first day he saw you beginning to make his stomach ache. Ere and Heela made an exclamation of mutual annoyance. Who was this person that had captured your heart? Surely… It couldn’t be one of the multitudes of boys who made your life at the Jedi Temple living hell. The younglings really didn’t care, but put a few pubescent women in with their male counterparts and there can only be chaos. Of course the younglings wanted to imitate their older brothers in arms. They all acted like animals. Harassing and heckling Peorth who was the most developed of the bunch whilst treating the rest of you like garbage. You got it too, having to put up with the moniker of “freak” while Ben did his best from the shadows. Perhaps in his neglectful moments, some other one had come in to sweep you off your feet…

“Well, she’s not wrong.” you admitted with a spry laugh. “I would give anything for Ben Solo to hold me in some regard.”

“Even if it’s just for a moment?” Ere asked softly.

“I do not want a moment Ere, I want forever. If I complete my Jedi training at the same time he does, I’m going to ask to travel with him wherever he goes.”

His heart had stopped beating for a minute. He was certain of that. He could hear your conversation but he could not understand anything that didn’t pertain to how you felt for him.

“Do not encourage her to divulge her sickening fantasies of that scrawny moof-milker Solo!” Heela snapped towards Peorth. The latter’s mouth was half open in a smirk but quickly shut. Ben was snapped out of his ecstasy when he heard Heela insult him. Her words were poisonous, they held a sharpness to them that could pierce the skin of any façade built to prevent their damage. Yet the hell with how he felt, he worried more about Heela’s rage being directed towards you.

“What did you call him?!”

“You heard me.” Heela replied. “I will not repeat it.”

The last contents of her plate were cleared, and Heela stood up to kick away stray crumbs with her boot.

“Nothing more than Bantha fodder, and I’ll not sit here any longer to hear about your asinine fantasies. We need no one, save for each other.”

“And I’m going to tell you not to insult him like that Heela! Not when he’s the only one who will ever be decent to you!” you immediately jumped up, your metal dinnerware fell from their place in your lap and clattered to your bare feet.

“Oh please Heela!” Ere begged. “Just leave her alone! Do not start a fight here, otherwise Master Luke might find us out and put an end to our tranquility.”

Ere pulled you down with her to sit, fingers tracing delicate patterns on your back while you trembled indignantly at Heela. She raised an eyebrow at you, perhaps wondering if you would accept the challenge of words despite Ere’s attempts to soothe your rage. Meanwhile Peorth said nothing, as bold as she was she would never rise up against a friend.

“That was uncalled for…” Ere finally spoke up. With a sharp turn her comrade came face to face with Ere’s neutral glance.

“How so?!” demanded Heela. “I put up with her foolishness in the beginning, but I will not tolerate such blatant disrespect of the Jedi way any longer.”

“It’s not fair.” was the response. “You take things too far. We only have each other in this time and all you’ve done is put her down. She’s not a droid, nor is she a plaything. She has feelings, and I don’t think it’s right to torment her anymore. Nor Ben, he’s done nothing to you.”

He could never remember what happened after Ere had finished speaking. All he knew was that he’d darted out from his hiding place, heard Peorth shout and felt a taste of Heela’s rage before everything went dark and cold. It had taken him a while to snap out of it. He’d heard in a dream the screaming of the other girls, a clatter of dishes, and your voice? He hoped that wasn’t a dream…

“Please wake up! Ben!”

No, definitely not a dream he decided when his eyes opened and fell upon your bright eyes. His breath hitched in his throat, upon feeling your heated gasping so close while your hand cradled the back of his head. It took him a long time to register the pain he felt while you helped him to sit up slowly. There was no one else in the clearing. The others must have left in a whirlwind, or his dying wish must have come true: the two of you were completely alone on the planet. Ben tried to avert his eyes but, you were so concerned he could not help but to meet your gaze silently.

“Are you alright? Does anything hurt?”

Nothing.

“Ben talk to me! Do we need to go to Master Luke?!”

No answer.

“Heaven help me, Heela’s knocked the words out of his mouth… We’ll get you looking decent and I’ll escort you back to the temple for the medical droids. You have bark in your hair by the way.” you murmured as he looked around, using your nimble fingers to pluck his locks clean.

“She does not like me, does she?” Ben asked softly. He could have kicked himself for being careless.

“Heela’s opinion of men is not high to begin with.” you replied, wiping the dirt from his face. “Look here, you’re going to have a bruise on the side of your head. Feel the bump. It has already begun to form.”

You patted his sore head and his hand reacted accordingly. Calloused hands reached out to yours, teasing the rough flesh with fingertips before engulfing your hand. In the moment that he touched you, something wonderful happened. A feeling, like a little spark in the kindling of his heart, ignited a pleasant glowing warm that spread from his chest to the ends of his fingertips. It was a magnificent feeling… To have you so close and concerned for him… It was as if every inch of your grace had touched his soul.

“You heard what I said?” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. “Truthfully I had imagined a better meeting instead of you leaping out and startling Heela into throttling you… But I suppose the Force works in mysterious ways doesn’t it?”

He could only nod. Still holding onto your hand as you heaved him to his feet. He heard something, your name, introductions, but he couldn’t really make a sound after the feeling suddenly left him cold again.

“Ben? Are you alright?”

“…You have beautiful eyes…”

A pause. A glance. A turn of the head, the flash of your throat as you breathed… And then he was rewarded with a wide, toothy smile with pink cheeks. He saw all of this, felt the spark ignite again and relished every bit of it as he let the fleeting warmth wash over him again.

This one time he closed his eyes. Contented that your smile was now for him.


	4. Recollection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy. And please leave a review. I'd love to hear what you think and talk some Star Wars.

“Thank you so much sweet one... Mother is going to do a lot better now.”

 

“Please don’t do that again.” Jacen signed, “Next time that fall will be fatal.”

 

You smiled weakly up at your son as he dressed and cleaned your wounds, an apron over his clothes. He’d been in the middle of cleaning up your meager house when you stumbled in from the settlement just beyond. Admittedly you weren’t paying attention at all, and thatching rooftops with a full mind was a recipe for a hard fall that nearly knocked the life out of you. The pulling you had been trying to ignore certainly wasn’t much help either. Jaina was still out, probably trying to find work or getting into mischief, and Jacen’s brows were furrowed in anger as though she was supposed to have been watching you.

 

“Hold still!” Jacen begged. “Haven’t finished up yet.”

 

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, although it came out more as a croak. The pain was nothing, you were just so tired...

 

“Have to take care of yourself Mother...” he responded.

 

“I know.”

 

“Can’t keep being careless. Lucky that you weren’t alone this time.” Jacen said, his fingers flying in shaky patterns.

 

“Lucky that your mother has such a hard head.” you replied, the chuckle that began in your throat only made your head throb even harder. “If I was not so resilient, I would have splattered all over the ground.”

 

“Drink this.”

 

Holding out a cup for you to drink, Jacen guided it towards you while you leaned up slightly to accept it. It was some of that garbage compactor tea you’d tried to give to your son, and it was every bit as revolting as it smelled. Yet whatever was in it seemed to have a narcotic effect on your body. Every bit of your muscles relaxed. The pull was not as strong, and seemed to leave you all at once without the bitter cold it drove in once removed. You felt... elated.

 

“Don’t move from that spot.” Jacen told you once he was finished cleaning your cuts and bruises. “Need to clean the bedding, air the clothes, wash dishes. Too much to do!”

 

“I’m sorry sweet one...”

 

“Don’t be.” he insisted. Even with the effects of the tea and Jacen’s turned back there was no mistaking his silent tears.

 

He skulked about in such a huff and glowered so intensely at his work that it broke your giddy facade. You should be the one caring for them... But it seemed as though your own foolishness had an agenda of its own. You lay there on the mat with your throbbing head experiencing instant relief from the cool cloth and tea Jacen had given you, eyes watching as he scurried about the house doing chores. He seemed to have perked up since his little episode last week. The effects of the tea lulled you quietly to sleep, your eyes closing while Jacen removed the cool cloth to replace it with another.

In sleep, your dreams barely took form anymore. Probably they died alongside with your childhood all those years ago. Instead of rest, your mind fell into its natural routine of meditation, as though you placed one hand over the Force within you and that of your children, and reached out to feel the expanse of the galaxy beyond with the other. This talent had been honed through years of training and personal discipline, and it exhausted you to try. Sometimes your children tried to reach alongside with you, but they were so inexperienced, they could hardly understand what it was they were trying to do. It reminded you of their infancy, when their chubby hands groped the air as though they were looking for something beyond themselves. Your coordination was far more fine-tuned, and you searched with purpose and intent while quieting the stirring within their own souls. What did you search for in these times? Most of the time you only felt your way to familiar beginnings. Sometimes your outstretched fingers found your sister. Ghosting over her anxieties and worry, you tried to reassure her of your safety, and once you were sated with her quelling emotions it was time to move on to the others: your mother, your father, your friends from your home planet. Once, out of curiosity, you tried to reach out to one that you had not seen in over fourteen years, only to find the bitter cold of rejection waiting to shock you out of your deep concentration. You tried to reach out to him now, only to press your metaphorical palm against what felt a wall of ice.

 

He was closed off from everything save for himself. _Just as well_ … You thought. _Let him find the peace he is searching for, and may he come to terms with his past soon._

 

Your warmth radiated against the wall of ice for a mere moment, and you found yourself again reaching blindly in the dark for something beyond the known. Ere. Peorth. Heela… Were they watching over you even now? So many times you found yourself trying to connect with them, only to be met with what felt a great expanse of silent void, a hole in the universe that they once preoccupied. It was pointless, you decided. They could not feel you or see you anymore than you could see them. Yet you knew your search for them would never cease, and eventually you would return to this disruption in the universe to prod and grope blindly for something far beyond your reach.

 

Curiously you probed further out, away from the hole in space and time to an even more benevolent presence. You felt his rugged and careworn soul jump upon contact with something more than itself, your warm hand over his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before resuming a further stretch out into the vast expanse of stars. You thought perhaps he tried to reach back to you, but you knew from the lack of experience he could not begin to try. The other one could however, and you felt a stinging, painful sense of care and love pierce your heart and return the love you held for her. She was looking for you, wanted to take you into her arms and keep you safe from the cold and the dark, and her genuine affection frightened your hand away and back into the permeating, omnipresent essence of the Force.

 

The hand you had extended into the force was beginning to feel heavy. Soon you would have to awaken from this deep meditation and face the physically tangible world you now occupied. As though you were yet again falling into a deep slumber, you felt the hand you had extended into the Force drop back down painfully slow. Every part of you felt fatigued. Nothing sounded better than letting your guard down, allowing yourself to fall deeply into a hibernation that would last far too long for comfort. It might have been the tea… You hadn’t felt this dangerously close to eternal rest since the first time you had tried to reach out years before during the birth of the twins. Yet you kept yourself in check as much as you could. A bit of a rest was alright. Just so long as you kept within your heart the knowledge that to surrender was to die. The discipline of your Jedi training grounded you, and you felt yourself at rest.

 

From somewhere deep inside yourself, you could hear a sweet voice calling out a name. You thought maybe it was your own. Was it Jaina coming home at last from her venturing?

 

Jaina. Jaina… Who is Jaina?

 

This thought concerned you. You knew who Jaina was. She was your daughter, your first born. Try as you might to summon the image of her face before you, there was nothing. Only the dark recesses of meditation, and a curious chill beginning to creep up your fingertips when you could not summon her image. The voice calling became louder and louder, darkness fading slowly in the presence of a glowing halo of light. It began at the front of your vision, extending outward and chasing away the dark.

 

Was this the first dream you would ever have in years? You could distinguish the shapes of trees vaguely, the light stinging your eyes as the calling grew louder and louder. It wasn’t your name that was being called. Your vision settled on the green outline of the leaves against the trunks, the curious sensation of the hard, rough ground bellow you was a solid grounding to your surroundings. The clearing was bright and chilly with the morning dew. Your body felt heavy and cold, strangely barren of anything proper for such a cold dawn.

 

And then you felt a warmth, a soothing palm ghost over the skin of your chest. Whoever produced this warmth was nowhere in sight. Their breathing was in sync with yours. You felt a chest rise and fall against yours, warm skin pressing on skin while fingers tangled in your hair. The rest of your body slowly acclimated to whoever was lying atop you. Legs were entwined. Your own hands felt the soft dip and firmness of a back and shoulders, exploring the warm swell of a thigh, a chest, everything probed and prodded by the calloused tips of your fingers.

 

“Ben…” whispered the voice. You frowned, that was not a name you had heard in a long time.

 

“Ben… Oh sweet one… I love you so…”

 

The trees disappeared. You were face to face with someone scarily familiar. With lust filled eyes, you came face to face with your own youthful countenance, hair disheveled, and the Padawan’s braid trailing down your bare shoulder.

 

Without a word, without making the scream that wanted to peal out of your throat, you snapped awake and rose from the bed like a cadaver. A tone deaf hum that was more wispy breath than actual voice startled you out of your disorientation. You’d be damned… Was Jacen humming?!

 

Sure enough when you looked from the doorway to him, he seemed to be unable to contain some sort of happiness. He was standing over the nanowave, stirring his concoction in a large pot while singing softly to himself. From the window you could see Jaina hauling water, her frown unsettlingly familiar as the bucket sloshed the hem of her dress and stained the purple fabric. She took stumbling steps, and once she disappeared from the window you heard the sliding door open.

 

“Mother?” she asked, her voice light and airy.

 

Jacen quickly turned towards you, the singing had stopped immediately. He lowered the heat setting on the nanowave and ran to your side, his soft hands stroking the side of your face.

 

“What is the matter?” he signed.

“I… For a minute I thought I was not dreaming…”

 

“Dreaming of what? The Pure Land?” Jaina demanded, her hands on her hips as she glowered at you. “I heard you took a nosedive off of a house when you were trying to thatch a roof. Did you die for a few minutes?”

 

“Oh no.” you laughed, flexing your bare arms. “Nothing can kill your strong, powerful, omnipotent mother.”

 

“More like your head is too empty for anything to damage it.” Jaina snapped back. She didn’t see the dirty look Jacen threw her when she bent to pick up the bucket, dragging it into the house with all her strength. With a grunt she finally settled it down next to the nanowave, removing her dirty shoes and soiling the otherwise clean floor.

 

“How do you feel now?” Jacen asked. “Does anything else hurt you mother?”

 

“I feel much better after that tea as a matter of fact.” you replied. “I’ll have to ask old woman Miho what it’s called the next time we see her at market. She was not kidding about the smell, and I do not doubt for a moment she purposefully omitted the taste from her sales pitch.”

 

“It put you out cold for a solid six hours.” said Jaina. “Jacen said you hadn’t moved from the bed since you came in. You wouldn’t stop muttering in your sleep either... Who’s Ben?”

 

“That’s your father’s name sweet, you know that.” you tweaked her nose, causing her to swat at you.

 

“Did you dream him?” Jacen was following the conversation while spooning some sort of mysterious soup into bowls.

 

“Yes.” you lied. “It was probably the first time since he died. I thought I’d forgotten what he looked like, but I suppose I cannot ever forget. I have the two of you to remind me of him every day.”

 

“Tell me about your dream with father.”

 

There was a shift on the mat as Jaina scooted on to sit beside you, her raven tangles scraping against your arm as she lounged with her head in your lap. In bed you were served some of Jacen’s concoction, refusing to be fed and instead taking the bowl yourself and giving an experimental sniff. It had a fresh, hearty smell to it. Although you could not see any recognizable meats inside it when you stirred it with an oblong spoon, a cautious sip surprised you with a flavor that might have suggested otherwise.

 

“This is actually really good!” Jaina piped up from your side.

 

“I have to admit son,” you said while chewing a mouthful of soft shoots, “Without you, your sister and I would have gotten sick from my piss poor cooking.”

 

“Well, I could probably try, at least anything I try at is going to be better than whatever you do.” Jaina replied haughtily. “But she’s right brother, this is probably the best work you’ve done in quite a long time.”

 

He said nothing, but his face flushed in appreciation. You made room for Jacen to cuddle in beside you, laying his head on your shoulder as he sighed and ate his meal. When he opened up from his shyness, a passion for learning resulted in exotic dishes that left Jaina’s temper quelled and your stomach contented. You and Jaina had taken him to market in the settlement beyond your home, and the boy had been positively fascinated by the local people and their goods for sale. With the meager earnings you brought home Jacen had been able to purchase fresh, delicious ingredients for working his kitchen skills. This had been a good choice to move, even you had to admit. At first you’d been skeptical of moving to the very beginning of the outer rim, but your sister had been correct as usual. Out here you were so disconnected from the rest of the Galaxy you didn’t have to worry about shielding your children from the First Order or the Resistance. What use had they for a small planet such as this? Neither one could benefit from the alliance of the small, miniscule monarchy that barely existed here. Nor could they trace the Force sensitivity of the three of you, especially when you had worked so hard and planted breadcrumbs in dead ends for them to follow.

 

“Oh mother!” Jaina exclaimed, placing her empty bowl down on the floor and reaching into her pocket. “I wanted to show you what I learned to do in the village! An old woman was looking for girls with soft hands, and when I presented mine to her she said I was perfect for the job! This was my first try.”

 

In your calloused hand she placed a hair bauble, representing one of the many winged insects of the planet. For her first try the decoration was beautifully constructed. It seemed to be made of spun silk, catching on your hand and fluffing when you tried to run a finger over its delicate wing. But with a few quick tinkering pulls with her fingernails the wings were set to rights. Jacen moved to look over your shoulder, his chin pressing against your back as he stared wonderingly at his sister’s creation.

“She called it ‘kanzashi’, they sell things like these to the dancers who perform during festivals.” Jaina said, her proud smile stretched ear to ear as she took the hair baub out of your hands and placed it on a little table. “I’ve got a real talent for this. She said she’d pay me good money for my work if I kept at it. I have the makings of a _master_.”

 

“Fascinating!” Jacen exclaimed, his quick breaths punctuated the movements he made with his fingers. “Is the work hard? How much did she say she would pay? House needs too many repairs.”

 

“I’ve got magic fingers I suppose.” she replied, flexing her fingers as you watched quietly with a smile. “The mistress said I could easily sell to the nobility in a few weeks. It takes a certain type of dexterity to achieve this level of beauty, and whatever it is she says I’m full of it.”

 

A naughty grin from Jacen sends Jaina into a huff. You sense he wants to open his mouth and speak, something in the way he moves and looks slyly from you to his sister reminds you of the familiar looks their father gave you so many years ago. And how funny, right as Jacen’s face contorts into a Cheshire grin he seems to have launched you back in time to the Jedi Temple. So funny it’s scary, and you have to touch the mat bellow your fingertips to make sure you’re not dreaming again.

 

“Don’t you dare say it!” she warned.

 

“Not saying anything.” he signs sassily back to her.

 

“Don’t even _think_ it!” she whines, and when Jacen’s grin widens even further she begins to wail. “Mother! _Mother he’s thinking it!_ Make him stop thinking I’m full of it!”

 

“Not doing anything!” Jacen shoots back. “Honestly!”

 

He dodges his sister as she launches herself at him, fists flying as she tries to get him to stop the imaginary taunting she perceives from her brother. Moving out of the way, you let them wrestle one another, watching and smiling quietly as the pain of the fall subsides and leaves your body. The pins and needles have begun to take over again, and you resume your guard against the pull that reaches with cold fingers from the farthest depths of the galaxy.

 

It always comes back to you in moments like these: when your children resemble their father so strongly in their mannerisms and facial expressions, and when the mere sight of them makes your heart ache for something that has been dead for far too long.


End file.
